The Gym Class Of Doom
by Mouko
Summary: My shortstory Creative Writing assignment. Heh heh heh. What happens when Dib and Zim find themselves stuck in Gym Class... of DOOM?


Warning: Bwaha, this is what I turned in to creative writing class. I SHALL EXPLAIN NOTHING. ^_^  
  
  
The Gym Class Of Doom  
  
  
  
Zim muttered darkly as he stood on the hot, steaming asphalt that was the school's playground. Pale white markings outlined the basketball court as twisted, rusty fences protected the sidelines from stray balls. Zim was an alien, his skin a deep green in color. His only disguise consisted of blue eye contacts and a puffy black wig. He possessed neither ears nor nose and, all things considered, his disguise was truly pathetic.  
The fact that only one person realized he was an alien was far more pathetic.  
Dib glared at him from his position near the alien, the sun glittering off of his prescription glasses as his spiky black hair clung to his sweaty brow. He was the only human to know Zim for what he truly was. Thus, he took it upon himself to capture and expose Zim, once and for all. However, his situation wasn't particularly easy, as most of the population referred to Dib as 'that weird kid'.  
Dib sighed and slumped against the rusty fence, his red gym shirt and black gym shorts clinging to him in a most uncomfortable fashion. The only consolation to such discomfort was that Zim was in a similar situation.  
Zim continued to growl under his breath as he shifted to adjust his clothing.  
"Foul planet...," he grumbled. "Why must it be so different!? First it is COLD... then it is HOT... then it is DRY... and then it is WET! What sort of nonsense-!?"  
"It's called weather, ZIM," Dib sneered. "But, of course, all HUMANS know that,"  
"Of course!" Zim agreed, quickly. "And since I am a perfectly normal HUMAN STINKBEAST, I knew 'that' as well!"  
"Sure you did, Zim," Dib snorted. "Just be careful... it looks like rain!"  
"W-wha-?" Zim glanced at the sky nervously as Dib chuckled to himself. Rain was a serious weakness of the alien's; all contact with water burned him. Dib might have made a comment about the Wicked Witch of the West, but he doubted Zim would understand the analogy.  
Their customary quarreling was cut short, however, as the gym teacher slowly approached them. He was a tall man, particularly muscular with a sadistic gleam in his deep blue eyes. His skin was tanned red, almost as if he was permanently sunburned, and had a crop of spiked blue hair on the top of his head. He wore black bicycle shorts and a tight black tanktop, with black sneakers completing the outfit.  
He was known as Switchblade, the gym teacher.  
"Right," he grinned as he came to a stop in front of the children. "Time for class!"  
"Oh joy," Dib grumbled.  
"Foul planet...," Zim growled.  
"Sooooo!" Switchblade drawled. "Time for... Jumping Jacks Of Doom! Then, we will do Running Laps Of Doom and Sit-ups Of Doom,"  
"... Why is everything 'Of Doom'?" Dib inquired, drolly.  
"Good question!" Switchblade purred. "It is because...," He paused, then towered over Dib in an intimidating manner. Dib's glasses fogged up as he stared at the menacing form of his teacher. "... I will doom you if you mess up."  
"... Um... okay," Dib squeaked. Zim snickered with delight at Dib's misfortune. "That sounds reasonable."  
"Good!" Switchblade smiled. "Anyone else have any questions?"  
"Um... I have a doctor's note...," one child ventured.  
"No," Switchblade replied. "You're not excused. Now shut up."  
The child squeaked and hid behind the mass of other students.  
"OKAY THEN!" Switchblade crowed, squaring his shoulders. "The Jumping Jacks Of Doom start... now!"  
The children stared at him blankly. Switchblade blinked, then put his hands on his hips and glowered.  
"I said... NOW!"  
The children squealed with fear and proceeded to jump up and down, flailing their arms in a terrible attempt to do jumping jacks. Switchblade watched them, his expression bland as the children only succeeded in making themselves look ridiculous. Switchblade's cheek twitched with irritation.  
"I hate children," he muttered.  
Zim grunted as he jumped up and down, waving his arms. He couldn't comprehend why anyone would want to do something so silly; what was the point, he wondered, in waving your arms while jumping in the air?  
As the alien attempted to make sense of 'jumping jacks', Dib was busy staring at a large pile of rubber dodgeballs. They sat at the edge of the court, piled up like a pyramid as they gleamed with a sickening pinkish orange color. Dib blinked, then grinned sinisterly.  
"I see...," Zim muttered. "This must be some form of HUMAN tactic to grow taller! The waving of one's arms and the jumping... it is meant to stretch them out! That is the only theory that makes sense!" Zim growled. He glanced at his arms, checking to see if they had grown any longer. "Yeeeeeeessssss...," he purred. "Oh, how tall I shall be..."  
At that moment, a dodgeball flew through the air and slammed in to the back of Zim's head. Zim yowled as he fell forward, face hitting the pavement. He winced painfully and sat up. He glanced around, then scowled as he saw Dib grinning at him, balancing a dodgeball on his finger.  
"What's wrong, Zim?" Dib purred. "Never played dodgeball before?"  
"You will pay for that, human," Zim growled deep in his throat. He grabbed the offensive dodgeball, which had come to a stop near him after it hit his head, and regarded it. He slowly glanced up and glowered at Dib.  
"Bring it on, ZIM," Dib sneered. "I-,"  
Dib was unable to finish his sentence before Zim's dodgeball bashed him in the face. Dib stumbled back as his glasses went flying through the air, landing on the ground with a sickening crack.  
"Foolish human," Zim mocked. "I have defeated you at your own game!"  
"It's not over yet, ZIM," Dib gloweed. "Not by a longshot!"  
Dib and Zim glowered at each other, eyes narrowed dangeorusly as they slowly moved towards the pile of dodgeballs.  
Switchblade glared at the children, cheek twitching violently with irritation. He crossed his arms and sighed.  
"Ugh... children these days...," he muttered. "Lazy... uncoordinated... and, on top of it all, they smell!" Switchblade slammed his fist in to the palm of his hand, growling.  
"They need guidance! Discipline! A little training in hand-to-hand combat never hurt, either," he said, sagely. His eyes grew shimmering as tears of reminiscence appeared in his eyes. "Ahhh, those were the glory days...,"  
A dodgeball bounced by, a hallow 'boing' issuing with each impact against the ground. Switchblade blinked and glanced at the ball as it continued on its way.  
"... Eh? Dodgeball of Doom isn't until tomorrow," he blinked. Suddenly, another rubber dodgeball hit him in the back of the head with a surprising force. Switchblade hunched over, momentarily stunned as pain laced through his head. When the pain dulled to a small ache, Switchblade slowly straightened up and glanced over his shoulder.  
"Bwahaha!" Zim laughed happily as he flung dodgeball after dodgeball at Dib. Dib jumped out of the way easily as the balls hit the wire fence and rebounded in to various directions.  
"Is that the best you can do, ALIEN!?" Dib scoffed.  
"The best? HARDLY!" Zim cackled. "Taste my rubbery dodgeball-y doom!"  
With a growl, Zim flung a dodgeball as hard as he could at Dib. Dib yelped and dropped to the ground in an attempt to dodge it. He let out a loud cry of triumph as the ball flew past him. His cry fell short, however, as the ball bounced off of Switchblade's chest and fell to the ground with a resonating 'bonk'.  
Dib and Zim stared up at Switchblade, eyes wide like that of a deer in headlights.  
"Well...," Switchblade hissed, eyes narrowing. "If it isn't Dib Membrane and Zim-," Switchblade faultered as he realized he didn't know Zim's last name. He blinked, then shrugged and glowered darkly. "I should have suspected you two would pull something like this."  
"I can explain..." Dib yelped. "It was the ALIEN-"  
"FOOLISH HUMAN!" Zim roared. "YOU started it by-"  
"ENOUGH!" Switchblade snapped, hands on his hips. "You're both in trouble... and that means you both get a dooming."  
Dib gulped but Zim simply scowled, condescendingly.  
"You have yet to invent a dooming that can defeat ME!" he announced, boldly. A vicious grin crossed Switchblade's face as he tilted his head.  
"Oh really?" he asked.  
"Yes," Zim nodded, wisely.  
"Even...," Switchblade paused and leaned very close, his eyes sparkling as his lips curled up in to a sneer. "... a Detention Of Doom?"  
  
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Zim and Dib grumbled darkly as they each stood in front of a blackboard, writing line after line on it with white chalk.  
"'I will not irritate the teacher or disrupt the other childrens' learning experience, even though gym is not really a class. I will not irritate the teacher or disrupt the other childrens' learning experience, even though gym is not really a class. I will not...," they droned, hands twitching as their knuckles cricked painfully.  
"Very good," Switchblade sat on the desk behind the two boys, reading a magazine with the words 'Galactic Conquest' on its cover. "Keep at it."  
"This is... torture...," Zim whimpered. "It should be outlawed! It's unreasonable... and it violates my rights!"  
"Shut up, alien. You don't have any rights." Dib growled.  
"You have a lot of writing to do," Switchblade pointed out, absently. "So shut up and keep working."  
"How much more do we have to do?" Dib sighed.  
"You need to write it three thousand more times."  
"W-what!?" Zim shrieked. He stared at the cramped chalkboard, already nearly covered with words. "But that's... inconceivable! There's no room for that!"  
"That's why you're going to lick the board clean after you fill it up, then start again," Switchblade replied, smirking sinisterly.  
"B-but...," Zim's lower lip trembled.  
"If you can't do the time, don't do the crime!" Switchblade admonished. "... Or something. Just write."  
"... Stupid educational system," Zim growled as he resumed writing.  
"I can't possibly get any more miserable," Dib sighed. Switchblade glanced up and chuckled.  
"That's what teachers are here for." 


End file.
